So last night, I had this dream that I was (and I don’t think I was really me, but I could have just been me in a different universe or something) living in some New England-y town with this really beautiful beach. But the town next to us had a great beach, too, and somebody from ours had gone bike-riding on their beach and left tracks (obviously, because you can’t step on the beach without leaving some sort of tracks). Big deal, right? Brush your hand over it, it’ll be gone.
Some psycho girl from that town was pissed off and poured cement all over a really long portion of our beach in the middle of the night, then rode her bike through it so it dried that way. And then she drew a line where she’d stopped and intended to keep going later on. She also left some sort of note explaining what she’d done—in the cement.
Well, seeing as how she’d already wrecked it, I didn’t see any harm in adding a little cement of my own—so I wrote her some sort of sarcastic response and let it dry. I wish I could remember what it said; all I know is, it was funny. And I became a hero there in our small town for doing it.
So I was telling my friends about it one day while we were in a bookstore, and we were having a good laugh over it, when we were interrupted.
Before I get to the interruption, here’s the background on my dream friends: My best friend is blind and I guess paralyzed from the waist down, because she’s being pushed around in a wheelchair by one of her older sisters. Most of them have moved out of the town by now—I guess she had several—but one had remained there to take care of her. They also had several younger siblings and the older one had kids and stuff…oh, but their mother was dead. But you get the idea. Big family. Many of them were there in the bookstore that day. As was John Cusack (but not really him—this guy’s name, for some reason, was Glenn—he was just played by John Cusack) who had dated most of the older sisters in that family and was now kind of into the blind one. I was kind of attracted to him, because he was John Cusack, but he wasn’t interested. He had some fixation with their family.
My best friend, for many years, has been…I don’t know how to do this without making this fictional girl sound horrible. The idea, despite what it seems, is that she is to be pitied for this. Someone has been coming to her for years and threatening her family unless she helped them kill. The deal was always that she didn’t have to actually kill anyone—her role was to blind this person. Usually with the use of some sort of poison that did the trick. Sometimes by actually gouging their eyes out. The killer had convinced her that this should seem completely fair to her, being blind and all. I guess the purpose was so the person would have no idea who was about to kill them. Or maybe just because that’s how the killer dude got his thrills.
I always suspected that this person was Lex Luthor—or perhaps not Lex Luthor (I’m honestly not sure)…maybe just someone who sort of represented him. The town multibillionaire or whatever. But he and his personal assistant looked exactly like the ones from Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman. I figured his motive was just taking out anyone who crossed him or accidentally discovered how evil he was.
The multibillionaire was dead, but his ex-personal assistant was with some guy in a wheelchair (whom I also knew, upon waking, to have actually been Lex). They approached my best friend, who, as you know, was also in a wheelchair, and the little old guy in the wheelchair didn’t speak, but the personal assistant was all, “So I’ve heard about your work in…optometry. I want you to do a job for me.”
So obviously it is them, because how else would they know about it?
And now that we know who they are, we’re trying to figure out how to go to the police with this without getting her entire family killed. But it’s only her, her older sister, Glenn, and me having this conversation, because obviously the kids don’t know anything. But we’re her trusted inner circle.
The thing is, of course Lex and Co. aren’t going to admit to any of this, and it’s damned hard to prove, and all we really have of whoever this mysterious killer is is their voice, which is always kind of faked—you know, deep and scary-sounding.
So we’re all talking, when older sister somehow discovers this old diary of their mother’s, and for some reason decides to start reading it out loud right then. Like, maybe Mom might have known something; who knows?
Well as it turns out, Mom did know something—she never names him personally, but she starts talking about an old “family friend” who was very close to all of her girls, but whom, though he seemed sweet and mild-mannered and boy-next-doorish, she never trusted. There was something off about him, she thought. Conversations she had had with him gave her cause to distrust him. She had even heard him speak violently—if only in jest—and mention, on one occasion, gouging someone’s eyes out to show them what it was like to be the blind one.
Everybody by now, of course, was kind of staring at Glenn—well, older sister and I were staring. And he was suddenly starting to act very strangely. Like, he was getting seriously pissed off and yelling, “YOU THINK IT’S ME, DON’T YOU!? I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU THINK IT’S ME, AFTER ALL WE’VE BEEN THROUGH TOGETHER! I’VE BEEN YOUR FRIEND OUR ENTIRE LIVES!” His voice, the blind one commented, was starting to sound like the killer. That’s when he stalked off through the house, through all the little kids who were staring in complete shock, and outside. I followed him.
He headed into this deserted parking garage (it was the middle of the night by then) that was really deep and twisty and only had one exit. And despite the fact that I was fairly certain now that he was a complete psychopath, I was still following him, as he ranted and raved the entire way.
We were standing there, about as deep as you could get into the parking garage, when I suddenly said, rather softly, “Glenn, I’ve just realized something—I love you.”
He glanced at me, but he was doing that anyway off and on, so I wasn’t sure if he’d heard me and was ignoring me—which would be bad—or if he just hadn’t heard.
I figured if he thought I knew he was the psycho, he would kill me right then, so I was pretty much going to die and may as well keep going.
“Did you hear me, Glenn? I said I’ve just realized that I love you.”
He stared at me for a really long time. And finally he said, “Really?”
I nodded and said, “Yeah. I do.”
He calmed down and started walking towards me, seemingly the same old Glenn I’d always known, but then I woke up, so I have no idea if I was about to die or not. I think so. I believe he is the one who was in the diary; who else would it have been? Lex didn’t make sense by that point.
I was just going to make a comment about how I didn’t know where the name Glenn came from, because I’d only ever known two in my entire life, and one was somebody’s dad in Virginia, and the other was a chef from the café last year, when the doorbell rang, and it was my brother’s friend Glenn. So…that’s sort of weird. I’d forgotten he had a friend named Glenn.
The other night I had this bizarre dream that was sort of a cross between Dr. Doolittle and The Birds. I could talk to animals. The bad thing was, though, that they were all going crazy and becoming vicious, maneating killers. But they all knew it was coming, so they were trying to warn me. Like at one point, The Mormon’s pugs came into the café while I was working to tell me.
Later I’m at my old house in Virginia with these two big dogs, and we’re just talking about how they’re going to change soon, and then the one does, right there in front of me, and it pounces on me and knocks me over, and then the other dog immediately pounces on it and they start fighting, and the one that’s still okay yells, “Ginny, I’m going to change! Run; just run!” And I run up the stairs. Remind me never to run up the stairs if I’m being hunted in real life.
And then later I came home and George was leaving. This was very, very sad…he explained that he had to leave because he was going to change, too, and I said, “No, you can’t leave! You’re my George! I love you, George!” and he said, “That’s exactly why I have to go.”
I love my George!
I had yet another one quite a while ago—this was when I was in Illinois—that Brother and his friends found in our basement (we don’t have a basement; we don’t even have two floors) a portal to every other universe in existence. The way it worked was, they’d jump through it and just end up somewhere, in any other universe. And then they just had to jump through from the other side, and it would automatically bring them back to here.
These other universes could look very similar to this one, with maybe only a minor difference here or there. They could also be totally and completely different. No telling what they were jumping into.
They’d been gone a long time, and I went to find them and bring them back. So I’m jumping into this thing, and I end up in several different places, but they aren’t there, and then I keep jumping through, and nothing’s changing at all—I’m still in our basement—when I finally realize that it is changing, it’s just so slight I can’t tell, and that they’re probably in there somewhere and I just don’t realize it.
I do eventually catch up with them, and I’m saying, “You can’t just go choosing your own universe just because you like it better! Haven’t you ever seen The Butterfly Effect!?”
“No,” Brother says, “you wouldn’t let me watch it.”
“Oh…right,” I said. “Well, haven’t you ever seen that episode of The Simpsons when Homer goes down to the basement with the toaster and things keep changing, and then he runs upstairs and it’s raining doughnuts?” (This is an actual episode, which I believe is probably the basis for the dream, hence why I referenced it.)
I finally get them back home. It rains doughnuts.
Sorry the quality of this entry completely sucks; I was rushing to get it all out, just so it’s documented for my own personal use. There were probably a few more dreams I’m forgetting; I’ll add them later.